


Hiding From the War We Claim to Fight For

by ProblematicFavesAreProblematic (SaritaNotSerena)



Category: Band of Brothers (TV 2001)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Smut, F/M, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2021-01-04
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:33:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28370934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SaritaNotSerena/pseuds/ProblematicFavesAreProblematic
Relationships: Richard Winters/Reader
Kudos: 13





	1. Darling, I'm Sorry

“You’re staring at her again.”

Dick’s heart leaped into his throat at the abrupt reminder of Nix’s presence, giving the dark-haired man a half-hearted glare before turning back to watch you rest your cheek on your fist while you poured over a report and nod along with whatever one of the other Intelligence Officers was telling you.

“I’m not staring at  _ her _ . I’m looking for  _ Sink- _ ”

“Right.  _ Sure _ .” 

when Dick turned to look at Lewis again, he frowned at the smug look on the other man’s face, his frown only deepening at the suggestive wiggle of Nix’s eyebrows.

“She’s his orderly, stop trying to make it lewd. She’s often where he is—”

Nix scoffed, shifting in the front seat of the Jeep and rolling his eyes.

“ _ Please _ . She may be his orderly but she isn’t his shadow. Hell, she’s _ barely _ his orderly these days—”

As Dick opened his mouth to reply, he got distracted by the sight of you scrubbing a hand over your face and raking your fingers through your braided hair in obvious frustration. Whatever the other man was telling you was clearly not what you wanted to hear.

After taking a deep breath, you stood from your seat and said something to the man- who seemed just as unhappy with whatever was on the report as you were.

“ _...thanks, Charlie. _ ” Dick could hear you say, giving the man one of your tight smiles. “ _ Sorry to snap at the messenger, this is good work-  _ **_you_ ** _ did good. Sink’ll appreciate it. _ ”

As you turn to leave after giving the man a salute, your eyes catch Dick’s and you freeze in place- the report in your hand hanging forgotten by your side.

Dick feels himself sit up straighter under your gaze, sucking a deep breath as he watches your eyes flit over his form as the Jeep pulls to a stop before returning to his face to look him in the eye. Your lips part as if you intend to say something, but then you seem to think better of it and press your lips together again, giving him a curt nod.

He returns it without hesitation, and with that, you turn your head to the side and proceed into the Battalion post, a slight hitch in your stride the only visible reminder of the injury you had sustained two days before.

“ _ Wow _ ,” Nix says, startling him again. “That was  _ painful _ to watch.”

“Nixon-”

“ _ That _ was like being in high school all over again.”

“ _ Shut up _ .”

“Have you decided to ask her to prom yet?”

“Shut  _ up _ , Lewis.”

It was moments like this that Dick wished he hadn’t told Nix anything about what had happened between the two of you in Alderbourne- if not for his own sake then yours.

It wasn’t  _ your _ fault that Dick didn’t know how to keep his mouth shut, yet he knew that you received the same relentless teasing from Lew as he did.

As if you needed any more reasons to distrust him. 

_ As if you didn’t hate him enough already.... _

You had come to see him about two weeks before D-Day, the smell of wine sweet on your breath as you smiled up at Dick with such ease it felt as if you’d known each other your entire lives. Those were the days before you’d taken a more hands-on role in intelligence gathering, when you were still  _ just _ Sink’s orderly.

Seeing you at his door wasn’t out of the ordinary- the nature of your job had you constantly flitting from soldier to soldier at all hours of the night with some new piece of information or change of agenda. And Dick would’ve been lying if he said that the sight of you wasn’t a highlight of his day, your presence having become nearly as essential and comforting as the day's first cup of coffee.

But that night had been different. He’d never seen you so…. _ uninhibited _ .

You’d told him that you were meant to leave England at first light and make your way to Normandy, having been tasked with ensuring that the ground forces were prepared for the Airborne’s arrival.

Dick had felt his chest tighten at the news- not liking the idea of you being so far away from the rest of the Company.

Not liking the idea of you being so far away from  _ him _ .

Your hazy eyes had watched his lips as he wished you luck, your cheeks pinkening when he told you that he looked forward to seeing you again  _ soon _ . The moment you’d met his gaze again, Dick’s heart had skipped a beat, and something low and dangerous had begun to curl in his stomach.

When you kissed him your lips tasted like berries and cream, one of your hands resting lightly on his chest as you tilted your head to the side to deepen the kiss. Dick hadn’t realized that he was kissing you back until his tongue brushed against yours and you sighed prettily into his mouth. As he felt your hand fist in the material of his shirt he suddenly became all  _ too aware _ of how much he liked it.

Dick hadn’t meant to step away as quickly as he did, especially when it resulted in you stumbling forward a bit at the sudden loss of his stability. Your eyes were wide and your lips parted in shock- as if you too couldn’t fully believe what had just happened. 

In a perfect world, he could pull you into his arms and kiss you again- he would kiss you until he forgot his own name and all he could be sure of was _ you, you, you. _ He didn’t consider himself a lustful man, but even  _ he _ found himself briefly imagining what your skin would feel like beneath his calloused fingertips. How your skin would taste on his tongue.

But this wasn’t a perfect world. This was war and he’d never forgive himself if he deceived you into thinking otherwise.

Something in his expression must’ve made his rejection clear, because suddenly you straightened up and averted your gaze with embarrassed urgency. You’d sniff quietly, the sound breaking his heart, but before he can say anything else you hold up a hand to silence him.

“ _ You’re right, I don’t know what I was thinking….. _ **_my mistake._ ** **”**

He hadn’t seen you again until he’d hooked up with Sink again somewhere in France, and when he does you are the image of professionalism- offering him a small smile and a quick  _ ‘good to see you’ _ .

Things between the two of you had been cordial.

_ At least, they had been until Eindhoven…. _

“ _ Christ _ , Dick. It’s like you’ve never seen a pretty girl before.”

Nixon’s hand clapped on Dick’s shoulder heavily, and Dick was slow to shake it off.

“Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

Nix narrowed his eyes, and Dick had to clear his throat before speaking again.

“I need to go find Sink—”

“ _ We _ need to go find Sink”

Dick shot him a glare. “ _ Then let’s go _ .”

He doesn’t wait for Nixon to get out of the car before going to follow you inside the stone building.

The room is a buzz with uneasy tension, Sink standing at the head of a table and studying one of the many maps spread across its surface. You sit beside him, your hands dancing across the paper with a frenetic grace as you quietly converse with your CO. Since two of Sink's reporting intelligence officers had been KIA, you’d taken on their roles as best you could, so to have you in Battalion and CP headquarters wasn’t an unusual sight. While it made Dick anxious to have you in a more at-risk position, he couldn't deny that you had a knack for explaining complex missions and updates that your predecessors did not.

While the vision of you consulting with Sink was familiar, the sight of another man-  _ a stranger _ , sitting close beside you was not.

Dick felt his hackles rise as he watched the man in the red cap sit so close to you, a frustration he had no right to feel rushing through his veins at the sight of this man watching your lips move as you spoke in quiet tones. When you smiled quickly at something the man had interjected, Dick felt his fists clench at his sides.

Even when Colonel Sink introduces this stranger as Colonel Dobie, Dick finds it difficult to keep his instant dislike of the man from showing on his face. 

The man looked far too young to be a Colonel, and was clearly too proud of his position for Dick to take him seriously. The way the young Colonel spoke was far too pretentious, and the way he casually used terms like “ _ chaps _ ” and “ _ jerry-held town _ ” made Dick’s indifference even harder to maintain.

When Dobie points to something on the map and has to lean into your shoulder to reach it, you minutely turn your head so you can continue to watch him as he speaks, the intimacy of the action not unnoticed by Dick. 

_ Did you know this man? Had he missed something, here? _

Before he can look for any other physical clues to your familiarity with each other, Dobie is explaining how the two of you had resourced some boats from the Canadian army the day before.

Dick relaxes slightly at that- the notion that your closeness had been born from something like strategizing. He found himself feeling even better when the man stands up and walks to the map pinned to a chalkboard on the other side of the table.

As if you can feel his gaze on you, you flick your eyes over to him and frown, the furrow of your brow combined with the tilt of your head silently asking him why he was staring at you.

Dick shook his head minutely, but suddenly you looked over to Dobie and then back to him and shot him an exasperated look.

' _ Really _ ?' the tick of your jaw asked. ' _ Really, Richard? _ ”

Before Dick could offer you any sort of denial, silent or otherwise, Strayer is demanding his attention. Even as the other man chastizes him for not completing his report, Dick can feel you seething at him. When Sink begins to join in with his own admonishments, you push yourself up from your seated position and begin to head for the door with your somewhat halted stride.

Dobie shoots a wink your way as you do so. Nixon notices and shoots a look at Dick.

_ ‘Uh oh,’ _ the look says. ‘ _ This doesn’t bode well.’ _

You intentionally don't look at Dick as you walk past him.

That hurts almost more than your glare had.

~

You aren’t even two steps from the CP building when you hear your name being called, hating the way it sounds coming from Dick’s lips and wishing it didn’t still thrum some pang of longing through your heartstrings.

_ Keep walking. He means nothing to you. Keep walking. _

But he quickly catches up to you, the pain in your calf shooting searing hot with each step you took.

When the man you’d once held the highest regard for steps in front of you, you are forced to stop. 

You glare at him.

“What do you want, Sir. I’m very busy”

He is flustered, but even that does nothing to detract from how devastatingly handsome he is. Looking at him hurts- his serious expression a constant reminder of both your embarrassing lapse of judgment in England and your deep-rooted disappointment in him that still lingered from your fight in Eindhoven. A small part of you wonders if he feels similarly complex feelings whenever he sees you, but you’re too emotionally calloused to allow your thoughts to linger on such notions.

_ He means nothing to you. You mean even less to him. Let it go. _

His ocean-green eyes seem to search your face for something he doesn’t find before he clears his throat and nods to your left leg.

“How’s….you seem to be walking on it better.”

You resist the urge to roll your eyes, choosing rather to bite the inside of your cheeks at his observation.

“Yeah, I am.  _ Thanks for noticing _ .”

He has the good grace to look slightly embarrassed by your insinuation, his cheeks turning pink as he quickly looks away and rubs at the back of his neck with his hand. 

_ Good, I’m glad he’s aware of how obvious he is. _

Lip had been the one to bring Dick’s fixation on you to your attention, casually mumbling it to you while you waited for Sink outside of an officer’s meeting shortly after Eindhoven. He’d been one of the few to actually witness the fight, and of those few he actually had the courage to bring it up every so often- going as far as to tell you that your anger towards his Superior Officer was valid.

“ _ We should have done something, _ ” he’d confided in you, voice low enough that none of the other men in the truck could hear him. “ _ I didn’t like leaving them either….it was wrong to let them do that. _ ”

The treatment of the women had been horrific to witness, but even more deplorable to allow it to continue. And you’d be lying if you denied that having someone else echo your feelings of disgust and dismay at the unwillingness of the COs to intervene didn’t make you feel better. 

Where you and Lipton diverged, however, was in your refusal to forgive Richard for his passiveness. 

Dick had tried to make amends, sure, but you couldn’t rid the faces of fear and shame you’d seen from those poor women-  _ no _ , those brave women who were purely victims of circumstance- wouldn’t allow you to accept any sort of olive branch.

Any warm feelings toward Dick had twisted into something sour and bitter. Even if he hadn’t made it clear that he had no romantic interest in you, you’d still admired him as a leader until that point.

Now? He just lingered like some ghost of a former lover that you’d never actually had.

It wasn’t until you felt a gentle hand on your upper arm that you realized that you had stopped listening and totally zoned out of the present, and judging by the look of open concern on Dick’s face it seemed as if he’d been trying to get your attention for a while.

Now you’re the one blushing and clearing your throat, desperately trying to downplay the fact that you’d entirely checked out midconversation.

“Sorry, what?”

Dick’s hand lingered on your bicep, and when you turned your head to look at it he hesitantly pulled back and brought his hands behind his back.

“I was saying that we need to talk.”

_ Great. That’s just what you needed- more talking with him. _

Your displeasure must’ve shown on your face because he shoots you an imploring look that is tinged with annoyance.

“I’m serious. People are beginning to take notice—”

You scoff in spite of yourself.

“Of what? You, _ gaping at me like a fish?” _

He clenches his jaw at that, quickly looking around to ensure that no one had overheard what you’d just said.

You do roll your eyes at that, crossing your arms across your chest and running your tongue over your teeth behind your lips.

“ _ Privately _ .” he finally grits out, his brows furrowing together in more obvious irritation. “We need to talk  _ privately _ .”

Bringing your hand up to pinch at the bridge of your nose, you sigh deeply.

“There isn’t anything we need to—”

“ _ Please _ .”

The way he says it gives you pause, your eyes meeting his cautiously.

Dick Winters had always been a polite man, something you knew and could acknowledge despite your distaste for him. But you’d never heard him say ‘please’ quite like this before.

He’d also never looked at you so imploringly before- as if he was  _ begging _ for you to listen.

It was strangely upsetting- seeing someone as level headed and self-assured as him literally plea for something. It made you feel a cold drip of anxiety, the unease of the sight making you physically uncomfortable.

“Fine,” you say quietly, setting your shoulders and nodding your head towards the empty stone shed a bit further down the path. “ _ Fine _ .”

~

Dick lets you lead the way, honestly shocked that you had agreed to speak with him for as long as you had- let alone to willingly speak to him  _ alone _ about something you  _ clearly _ didn’t want to talk about.

You sit heavily on a wooden box as he closes the shed door behind him, crossing your arms across your chest and nodding for him to get on with it.

He feels incredibly nervous, as if he’s back in his public speaking class in middle school. He knows you’re mad at him, and that knowledge only adds to the pressure he’s already placed upon himself to make things right with you.

Your eyes as cool as they regard him, and he has to take a few steadying breaths before he trusts himself to continue.

“I….I owe you an apology….”

One of your eyebrows quirks up, not in surprise but more in confirmation.

Dick clears his throat and has to look at the dust particles floating behind your shoulder so he doesn’t lose his nerve.

“I know I...that you feel like I let you down, in Eindhoven. I, I shouldn’t have pulled rank on you- not in front of other people like that. And I understand that it probably was more hurtful considering, well, what happened before you….left for France—’

When he looks at you again he wishes he hadn’t. Your eyes are blazing with rage, the angry tick in your jaw returning with a vengeance that would cut down a lesser man- a man who wasn’t as committed to seeing this conversation through.

“ _ You… _ ” you begin, cutting yourself off with a rueful scoff. “You think this is about you  _ making me look bad in front of Nix and Welsh _ ?!”

When he doesn’t reply you shake your head in disbelief, pushing yourself up to stand and glaring at him when he moves to help you.

With a hand on your hip, you glare at him.

“You want to know what I’m mad about? Fine. I’m mad at you because you did  _ nothing _ to help those women.”

Dick opens his mouth to reply, but stops when you give him a warning look.

You weren’t done.

“You just _ stood there _ and let those  _ monsters _ scalp them like sheep! Those men stripped them to their slips and forced them to their knees for what?  _ Being raped by Nazis?!” _

He flinches at your use of such an ugly, horrible word. His heart is in his throat as you take a threatening step towards him and jab your finger into his chest.

“If you can stand there and tell me that you _truly believe_ that _each and every single one_ of those women _happily_ _consented_ to having sex with the beasts that enslaved them and most likely killed their husbands and brother and fathers and sons, then you may as well take that goddamn American flag off of your arm and trade it for a swastika- because if you think _any_ of those girls were given a _choice_ in the matter you are no better than the men who hurt them.”

Your voice is becoming shrill with anger, your eyes reddening with unshed tears that Dick feels personally responsible for.

“How _ dare you _ stand there and imply that I’m pissed at you because you didn’t return the stupid feelings I had for you _ a year ago?  _ How  _ fucking _ dare you? We were supposed to be there to save them! They saw us as  _ heroes _ and symbols of  _ justice _ and  _ you _ just stood there and did nothing to stop the injustice _ happening right in front of us!  _ And when I  _ tried _ to stop it- to  _ help _ \-  _ you _ pulled rank and refused to _ let me save them—! _ ”

Dick winces at that. Because you were  _ right _ , he  _ had _ stopped you when you’d tried to intervene.

You’d pulled your pistol from your belt and begun to march into the mob to put a stop to it, murder in your eyes and a snarl on your lips as you shoved your way through the throngs of people.

Your gun had been raised above your head to fire a warning shot when he’d bodily intervened, yanking you backward and telling you not to do it.

When you’d refused to relent, Dick had  _ commanded _ you to stand down.

It wasn’t because he liked what was happening in the center of the mob- far from it.

All he had seen was you marching into a gathering of no fewer than fifty angry and armed men, with a look on your face that said that you had no intention of stopping despite the obvious disadvantage you were being faced with.

He saw you fighting and losing, your body crumpling to the ground lifelessly as an all-out riot broke out. He’d seen nothing but  _ more _ unnecessary death and violence- and he refused to lose you in something as avoidable as self-incited mayhem.

As much as he hated to admit it, he hadn’t thought of the circumstances that had brought those women to be there at all. All Dick had thought about was losing you in the crowd and never seeing you again.

As you jab at him you seem to break, as if you were the one being chipped away at with each strike.

“If you don’t think  _ your mother _ would’ve done the same thing to protect you and your sister….if you think  _ any _ of those Kraut soldiers have ever once respected the word  _ ‘no’ _ or  _ ‘stop’ _ or ‘ _ please don’t _ ’—”

The finger you poked him with is now a fist, the side of your hand striking him with a few heartbroken thuds before you quickly turn your back to him and start to sob- your shoulders shaking with the violence of your heaving cries.

“ _ You made me let it happen! _ ”

The nausea he feels threatens his already tenuous resolve to remain stoic, his throat tight at both your livid condemnation of his inaction and at the sight of you hurting so badly  _ because  _ of him. Dick knows that he wasn’t alone in making the decision not to intervene, but he  _ was _ the highest-ranking officer. He was supposed to set an example for the rest of them, and he hadn’t even considered that by doing nothing he was doing the regiment a dishonor. 

You were disappointed, so  _ clearly disappointed  _ and hurt and horrified with how he’d handled it all that it almost made him want to cry as well. Each and every glare, verbal jab, and loathful look you’d given him not only made sense, but was entirely justified.

He had failed all of them- he’d failed you.

“Y/N….I’m—”

Before Dick could even begin to express his horror, you stormed out of the shed with a choked sound, throwing the door open and nearly knocking Nix over in your haste to get away from him.

Lewis, his cup of coffee now sloshed down his arm and a look of surprise and shock on his face, gaped in the direction you’d taken off in.

When he looked back to Dick, he furrowed his thick brows and took in Dick’s disheveled appearance.

“Jesus, Dick. What’d you do?”

Dick didn’t even know where to begin.


	2. Like Darkness, I'm Drawn to the Night

Dick’s fingers hovered over the keys of the typewriter, fingers starting to shake from inaction as he stared at the row of blank paper waiting to be filled.

How anyone could write reports all day was beyond him.

He’d rather relive each and every scorching run up and down Currahee while under enemy fire than compose another sentence, let alone an entire document. More than anything, he wished he could just write in the straightforward, bullet point style that SInk and Nix’s intelligence reports came in.

Briefly, Dick wondered if it was this difficult for everyone else in the military, or if he was just uniquely inept.

Whenever he saw  _ you _ writing reports, your fingers danced over the keys like a concert pianist. You made it look easy.

The thought of you brings back the sour feeling in his stomach, an anxious nausea rolling over him like a rogue wave. His blood was both too hot and too cold in his veins, the sight of your heartbroken face carved into the inside of his eyelids.

_ “You made me part of it…. You stood there and did  _ **_nothing_ ** _ to stop it.” _

He couldn't deny your accusations of negligence, even though every fiber in his body ached to reject such claims. When had he lost that part of his humanity? Where had it gone? He’d had it in England, he knew he had still felt it in Normandy….maybe it was after Hall died? 

Had he left it on that hillside in Sainte Marie du Mont, as he watched the city down the way exploding in fire and fury?

It scared him- to think that he hadn’t even felt the man he’d been slipping away.

Had it been obvious to anyone else?

_ Had it been obvious to you? _

Forcing himself to refocus on his report, he reread the last part he’d written and frowned. He’d reached the part in his report of the October 5th report that he’d been dreading: the part where you got hurt….

_ When the men had brought Alley back from the Crossroads, Dick had thought them lucky that only Moe had sustained injuries- serious ones but non-life threatening. _

_ It hadn’t been until Joe Liebgott suddenly looked around in fear and asked if anyone had seen you that Dick realized that this wasn’t just a matter of re-securing a border anymore. _

_ It was a body retrieval. _

_ He hadn’t even had time to get angry or scared or confused as to why you were out so close to the frontlines before he’d gotten whatever men he could together to retake the Crossroads, his sense of duty and obligation taking over his more emotional mind and giving it a purpose by way of distraction. _

_ You weren’t in the dike where Liebgott had assumed you’d fallen, something that provided little comfort for both Dick and the men who’d grown to love you like a sister. While no body usually meant that there was still hope of life, the fact that you could’ve very well been  _ **_taken_ ** _ squandered any such optimism. _

_ No body, no answers. _

_ When Dick had thrown himself off of the dirt road and slid into the dike for cover, it had been your whimper of pain that had brought life back into his body. Somehow, he’d managed to get his hand over your mouth before you could make much of a sound, your eyes wide and bright in the dark as he stared down at you in relieved wonder. _

_ You must’ve been laying out in the cold for at least an hour, your calf bleeding steadily as you shivered in the damp muck of the grassy slope. As carefully as he could, he’d rolled his body over yours in a desperate hope to offer you some warmth, his heart going a thousand miles a minute as he processed the fact that you weren’t dead- that there was still a chance of you making it out of this alive. _

_ “Are you hit?” he asked as quietly as he could, watching as his breath moved the hairs that had fallen loose around your face like some gentle breeze. _

_ You nodded, knocking your left knee against his leg to indicate where you had been injured. He realized he still had his hand clamped over your mouth and lifted it up slowly, worried that you might make another pained sound and give away your position. _

_ “Not bad,” you hissed, your jaw tight as you tried to keep your voice quiet. “Bad ricochet…. Moe? The guys—?” _

_ “Safe.” _

_ You’d let out a sigh of relief, swallowing a few times before seeming to refocus and process what Dick’s being there probably meant. _

_ “A truck with three men passed about six minutes ago,” you sighed, and Dick could feel your hands move from your sides to slide between both of your stomachs to start pulling at your belt. His face went red and he quickly rolled off of you, eyes wide at the insinuation of the act before realizing that you were trying to give him something to make a tourniquet out of.  _

_ He knocked your lethargic hands out of the way and helped you slide it from your belt loops, wrapping an arm around your waist to unclip your holster that was inhibiting the belt’s release.  _

_ “Just you?” you had asked, exhaustion from blood loss beginning to stain your voice. _

_ Dick sighed a ‘no’, looking back the way he’d come from before looking back down at you. _

_ “I’ll be back,” he had promised, looping the belt around your leg and securing it just below your knee. “I’ll _ **_come back,_ ** _ okay?” _

_ Your hands took the tail of the belt from his and pulled, your face drawing in pain as you nodded. _

_ “Go,  _ **_go_ ** _!” _

He stops typing, his mouth feeling dry and his hands feeling clammy.

It made him uncomfortable to think that you’d been angry with him even then, that you’d been angry with him for a  _ long time _ and he hadn’t even realized it. You’d been so  _ brave _ , squeezing your eyes shut as he and Tab poured sulfa powder on the wound and muffling your cries of discomfort into the palm of his hand as you held it to your mouth.

Dick wondered briefly if you’d ever let him touch you again, even if it were only to save your life.

You meant more to him than he cared to admit or think about. You hating him hadn’t changed that.

When you’d brought up the kiss you two had shared in England, you’d used the past tense- ‘ _ the feelings I  _ **_had_ ** _ for you _ **_’_ ** _. _

Selfishly, Dick supposed that he’d automatically assumed that you were still harboring your affections for him- that you would wait until he felt comfortable enough to share his own feelings of mutual admiration and that things would easily fall into place.

It made him feel stupid. It made him feel foolish.

He wondered if this was how you’d been made to feel after Alderborne.

If so, he had more to apologize than he thought.

_ Make amends  _ the voice in his head whispered.  _ Do your job and make it better. _

He didn’t know what that meant, not really. He didn’t know how to even start.

What he did know? He couldn’t do anything until he finished this report.

So, leaning on his sense of duty, he brought his fingers to the keys and began to clack away.

~

Dick’s report felt heavy in your hand as you waited for his orderly to alert him to your presence, anxiety churning your stomach like a storming sea. It took far too much effort on your part to maintain your professional facade these days, and judging by the noticeable tremble of the papers in your hand, your mask was starting to crack. Even Sink had made a remark about how on edge you seemed, doubt clear on his face when you tried to brush his concern off as nothing more than homesickness.

You should’ve known better than to try and lie to Robert Sink, he’d known you too well and too long for you to get much past him. It didn’t happen often, but you could swear that there were moments where he looked at you like you were still the messy-haired little girl who played war in the woods with his children after holiday meals- his eager-eyed niece who would climb into his lap and beg for him to recount the far off adventures he’d just returned from.

Now that you’d had a chance to share one of these adventures with him, you wondered if he regretted indulging your fascinations. You doubted he’d ever tell you either way. 

That was just the sort of man he was.

Those were the sort of men you now surrounded yourself with.

When you tried to imagine one of your future nieces or nephews crawling into your lap and asking you for stories, you were alarmed by the fact that you had unintentionally imagined Dick sitting by your side.

Before you fully process why that had been where your mind went, Zielinski returned and gave you the go-ahead to enter the office.

You felt an instant shot of relief when you saw that Dick wasn’t alone, the presence of Lewis and Harry calming your frayed nerves significantly. While you knew in your heart that Dick was not a bad person, that he hadn’t done what he did maliciously, you still weren’t sure what to make of your anger towards him.

The moment you step in the doorway, Dick shoots to his feet and for a moment you think he’s about to stand at attention. Briefly, you wonder if Zielinski had accidentally told him to expect Sink coming in- and if the way Harry and Lewis start to confusedly copy his formality, they are just as confused as you are.

But you knew Zielinski hadn’t mentioned Sink. You’d been right next to him when he’d said your name.

That made your face feel hot for a reason you didn’t dare explore right now.

Everyone in the room stands awkwardly and stares at each other for a second, and with a confidence you didn’t truly have you attempt to break the tension.

“Uh- _ at ease, gentlemen _ ?”

Harry snorts a laugh at that, plopping back down with Nixon following suit. You don't miss the look Nix shoots Dick’s way, but you aren’t able to decipher it. Maybe that was for the best.

“Well, would you look at that?” Harry says with a beaming smile. “Look who’s decided to grace us with her presence this morning.”

You roll your eyes at that, giving Nix a quick nod in greeting before fixing Harry with a look as you walk further into the room. 

“Oh Harry, when I decide to grace  _ you _ with anything you’ll know it.”

He shoots you a wink as Nix huffs a laugh at the interaction.

You can feel Dick’s eyes on you, and when you turn to face him you feel your easy smile tighten and you give him a nod.

_ “Sir.” _

_ “Y/L/N.” _

The air between the two of you is thick with unspoken tension, stained with guilt and frustration and the remnants of affection that made the feeling all the more painful. You could see a similar trepidation on his face, your throat feeling tight as you choke back all of the things you wish you could say.

Lewis, clearly feeling the awkwardness as well but kindly not letting it linger, quickly breaks the silence.

“You want to  _ sit _ , Y/N? Heard you got shot at the crossroads….”

Dick’s eyes flicker to your leg and then he’s quick to reach over and rip his coat off of the wooden chair to the left of his desk. You sigh a laugh, mumbling a quick  _ ‘thanks’ _ before carefully lowering yourself into the seat.

“I think I fall somewhere in between shot and grazed, but yes you heard right—”

“Oh yeah!” Harry adds, leaning into the sill of the window as he crosses his arms across his chest. “Lucky you weren’t at CP. heard they got hit pretty bad….”

You feel your mood darken slightly at the reminder of Holly’s death. He was a good man. All of the men who had died that day were good men.

“Yeah,“ you mutter as brightly as you can. “All things considered.”

You clear your throat and look hesitantly at Dick.

“That’s uh, actually what I wanted to talk to you about.”

You hand him the file in your hand and give him a nod of thanks when he comes closer so you don’t have to get up. 

“Sink’s hoping he can get you to rewrite the report on that—”

“Oh?” Dick’s pale brows furrow as he looks at the paper to see that it is indeed his report on the crossroads. “Was something wrong with it? Did I miss a signature? Was it too vague—?”

“No, _no_!” you interrupt, having heard through the grapevine how hard he’d worked on it. “Nothing like that! It’s um, the _opposite_ , actually.....”

Dick frowns at that, and you hesitate for a moment while you try to find the right words to express what Sink needed fixed.

“Sink, um, was hoping you could rewrite some of it. Specifically….” You look down to pick at an imaginary thread on your pant leg. “he needs a report that doesn’t include the fact that _I_ _was there—_ ”

You feel his eyes on you, and the room is unbearably quiet as you clear your throat and continue to look anywhere but Dick’s direction. You catch Nix’s gaze, and you can tell he knows what you’re getting at.

“I…” Dick begins, his voice quiet. When you see Harry’s head turn to look in his direction you do the same and catch him looking at Nixon as well. “I’m not sure I understand…”

Harry, never one to stay still for long, chooses this moment to pop to his feet and announce that he’s getting himself some coffee. You all mumble your own acknowledgments to his intention, and he saunters off like a kid who was just told he didn’t have to stay for detention. 

When Dick’s eyes fall on you again, you begin to tap your fingers on your thigh nervously.

“Well, I’m still technically  _ just _ an orderly, at least on paper, so—”

“—So having you injured in the line of duty is a direct violation of your service agreement.” Lewis interrupts, saving you from your tongue-tied stupor. Dick’s frown deepens, and when he looks back at you you nod in confirmation. 

“What he said,” you say with a bitter taste in your mouth. “It’s a just minor adjustment, otherwise it’s a perfect report, Dick—”

He holds up a hand, narrowing his eyes as he processes what you and Nixon have just said. Once upon a time, you would’ve found the look on his face endearing and it would’ve made you smile. 

But not right now. 

“That doesn’t seem right.” he finally settles on, smoothing a hand over his already perfectly combed hair before setting his hands on his narrow hips.

You couldn’t agree more. It wasn’t right.

You’d implied as much to Sink when he’d tasked you with getting Dick to amend the report earlier than morning, a strange embarrassment bringing tears to your eyes at the notion that the simple mention of you ruined an entire report. 

Were you such an intolerable figure that by simply being referred to in an official document brought into question the credibility of a successful engagement? 

Sink, giving you a look that you recognized from your childhood moments of petulance, had clapped a hand on your shoulder and given it a familiar squeeze.

_ “It isn’t fair, you’re right about that. I wish I could tell you otherwise, but the powers that be just ain’t ready for someone like you- not yet. Don’t take it to heart. You’re smarter than the lot of ‘em.” _

“The terms of my service are pretty clear that I in no way should be anywhere near combat,” you heard yourself parrot hollowly. “Colonel Sink is just trying to keep me from getting sent home—”

“But you were  _ shot. _ ”

The ferocity in his tone surprises you, and when you see him angrily shaking his head from side to side you send Lewis a pleading look.

Taking the cue perfectly, Nix stands up again and clears his throat as he elaborates on your behalf.

“If she’s shot back at  _ CP _ , that’s one thing. It’s where she’s supposed to be as an orderly. But If she’s shot ‘ _ in the line of duty _ ’, she’s considered an a _ ctive servicemember _ \- and active service members who get wounded are eligible for a  _ Purple Heart,  _ which would make her a soldier _ — _ ”

“—and then you’d have the right to a soldier’s pension.” Dick finishes Nixon’s sentence, his jaw working as he looks ruefully at the report in his hands.

Nix snaps and points a finger at him. “ _ Bingo _ .”

Your frustration from earlier has begun to boil your blood again, and your feet nearly itch with the need to leave the conversation and the suffocating feeling of the office.

As you push yourself up to stand, Dick and Nix move to help you- only stopping at your assurance that you’d got it under control.

Looking back at Dick, you fix him with a look that you hope conveys the importance of what you’re asking.

“I was able to buy you an extra two days, but the sooner Sink gets it the sooner he gets off of your back about it.”

Dick nods, tossing the pages down atop all of the other paperwork on top of the desk.

“Yeah, understood.”

“Hey, Dick—?”

Something in the set of his shoulders gave you pause, and you realize you aren't really sure what else you wanted to say to him. 

_ Sorry I called you a monster? I think I was angrier at myself than anything else? I don’t think you’re a bad person at all, and I am sorry if I made you think that I did? _

But you can’t say any of those things- not yet and not with Nix here.

So you settle on another tight smile and a nod.

“ _Thank you_. I know it’s….you’ve got a lot going—”

The strained smile he gives you back tells you that he feels it too, that he knows there is still an ocean of unresolved conflict between the two of you. That he is just as sorry about it as you are.

“Don’t give it another thought. I’ll take care of it.”

With a final nod, you murmur a goodbye to Lewis and leave the office

~

The moment you are out of earshot Nix smirks like the cat that ate the canary.

“Told you she still liked you.”

“Shut up, Lewis.”

Dick hoped his friend was right.

**Author's Note:**

> Title and chapter names inspired by The Hollow in Retrospect by Corey Kilgannon


End file.
